Rum
by Bremie
Summary: They never meant to get that close.
1. Chapter 1

**01**

"You sure 'bout this?" he asks, chewing on the end of a Dairy Queen straw. "It ain't exactly my place of choice for a Saturday night."

Her leg is shaking and she tries to force herself to breathe normally. Something about the way the grass is too long and the shutters are falling off makes her nervous. The windows are covered with newspapers and old curtains, a skinny dog is chained to a tree out front.

"Yeah." She makes herself face him. His eyes are too tired for being only seventeen. "I'm sure."

Her fingers curl around the door handle. Neither of them belong here, especially a girl like her. Jesse looks mean. Tough. He could pass for someone who visits those kind of places, though she looks more like a lost puppy.

Jesse grabs her by her forearm, stopping her from opening the door. His voice is low, concerned. "You don't have to go in there if you don't wanna, Rummy. Anytime you say you wanna leave, we'll leave. Simple as that."

She looks at his arm. His sleeve is lifted a bit, just enough to see the beginning of the long, white scars. He told her about them once, after many rounds of whiskey. Greasers are known for their scars. Most show them off and boast about them. They make them feel tough, look dangerous. But his are not the kind you talk about. His are the kind you fear.

"I want to."

He shakes his head, almost like he knows what they're going to find. "You shouldn't."

"I gotta know," Rummy says, staring at the house. "I need to know."

He takes the key out of the ignition without another word.

* * *

><p>Jesse knocks on the door. Twice. He glances back at her, telling her to stay behind him and not to speak.<p>

They see the curtains move, but no more than a few inches. Rummy shoves her cold hands into her pockets and tries to ignore the rapid thumping of her heart. She keeps thinking about what her father used to say to her when she was little and would search throughout the house for her Christmas present. Something about curiosity killing a cat.

Minutes later the door opens. The smell hits her instantly. It's strong. Strange. Not like anything she knows.

A scrawny man peaks his head out, nervously looking around. His eyes are bloodshot. He glares at them. "What'd you want?"

"We're lookin' for our friend," Jesse replies smoothly. His face is calm. "Kurt. Looks kinda like Bob Dylan. My height. He here?"

The guy scratches his cheek, studying them up and down again. He starts closing the door, saying, "Hold on."

The next time the door opens, he has another man with him. He's taller and is pretty big, with a long nose and a blade sticking purposely out his back pocket. They tell them to hurry inside.

"What's your friend's name?" The scrawny guy crosses his arms. He only acknowledges Jesse. "Carl?"

"Kurt."

He nods, scratching his face again. "Yeah. He's here. Ron, you wanna show 'em where he is?"

The bigger man, Ron, starts heading down the narrow hall. The scrawny one goes the other way, humming a song to himself. Rummy stares at the few people she passes. They look right pass her, like she's not even there. A girl she walks by is dancing, laughing, and talking to herself. She meets her eyes for a second. Her pupils are abnormally large. She can barely tell her eyes are blue.

Ron nods to the corner of what seems to once be a living room. A couple of torn couches are pressed against the wall and a broken radio is in pieces on the floor. The smell is strongest there.

"That him?"

Someone sits in the corner of the room, arms wrapped around their self. They are staring at their hands, talking to the stained carpet. They're frowning. They're mad.

Rummy shakes her head. She can't talk. The words won't leave her mouth.

"Yeah..." Jesse says quietly, his lips are a thin line and his eyes are stuck on the person. His hands keep curling into fists.

Ron shrugs then sits by some red hair girl, taking a joint from her hands as she rubs his arm.

Rummy steps closer and closer to the boy in the corner. She wants him to look at her. To notice her. He doesn't.

"That's not him." Her heart is beating too fast. "S'not him, Jesse..."

"Rum..."

"That ain't my brother."

He says nothing.

"He said he was getting better. He said he had a job. A real good one."

"Rum." Jesse takes her hand, and squeezes it but she feels nothing. "We need to leave."

"_Kurt_." She says loudly, stepping so close she could touch him in arms length. "You need to come home, you need to-"

His nails dig into his scalp. He is shouting.

"I didn't say that to them, I said, I _said_ that the snakes had to go I told them to go! I want them to _GO_!"

Jesse pulls her back. "Dammit, Rummy! We're goin'!"

His arms are laced around her waist, dragging her back. She tries to escape but stops. This was what she wanted to see. This is what she knew she would see. Right? Did she really believe him, when he called a month ago, swearing on their father's grave that he was done with the drugs? Lord knows she wanted to. She really wanted to.

"The kid does too much," Ron sneers. "Never knows when to quit."

"Fuck off." Jesse snaps. Ron shrugs, taking another hit.

She elbows him softly. "Let me go."

He does.

They make it to the Buick without another word.

* * *

><p>By the time they make it to her house, the sun has disappeared from the sky. The car window is down. The air is warm, a little humid feeling too, which makes her already wavy hair even more frizzy and wild. She doesn't care about that. Her mind is blank. She feels too numb.<p>

"I shouldn't of taken you there." His grip on the steering wheel tightens. His knuckles turn white. "You didn't need to see that."

"He's my brother." she admits. It doesn't sound right, though. That boy wasn't the Kurt she knew.

"He's my best friend." Jesse adds, the words sound oddly bitter when they leave his mouth. "Doesn't mean anythin'."

She knows he's right. It doesn't. Not when he doesn't even know they were there, standing right in front of him, speaking to him, staring at him like he was a crazed animal at the zoo.

She doesn't cry. She wont.

"You think he has a chance?"

The question catches him off guard. She can tell by the way his eyebrows scrunch together and his lips curl into his mouth.

He looks her straight in the eye.

"No. I don't."

She believes him.

* * *

><p>The Buick speeds away, blowing through the stop sign at the end of her street. A part of her feels guilty, like she should not have left him alone. But they both want nothing more than just that. To be alone.<p>

Her house is small and everything smells like cheap perfume. She can hear a radio blaring from the kitchen.

The woman is wearing an emerald dress that stops too high above her knees. Her hair is up in a bun that is too loose to look elegant and her lips are a deep crimson color. A glass of Jack is in her hand. She is sitting on the lap of a balding man who keeps looking at her chest and squeezing her thigh. Rummy feels her stomach knotting in disgust.

"Oh, baby, I didn't see you there!" She stands up, not bothering to pull her dress down. "James, this is my daughter. Rummy."

He checks her up and down. Slowly. His smile is still present, but uncomfortable now. Rummy wonders if he also has a daughter. Maybe even two.

James clears his throat. "Hello...Rummy."

He says her name like he almost doesn't believe it. Like she were her mother, who has a different name for every man she has over.

"I'll be right back, James. I need to speak to my daughter real quick." Her mother takes her by the wrist, winking at James and moving her hips like she always does in the presence of her clients. Rum has seen it all so often that she thinks she would be used to it by now. She's not.

She drags her out of the kitchen. When they come to the front door, her mother releases her.

"I _told_ you not to come home tonight. I said I was gonna be needing the house." She's angry, but she doesn't yell. Not with James in the other room. "You need to leave. You can come back tomorrow around noon but not any earlier, okay? You understand?"

She gets pushed out the door before she has a chance to respond.

* * *

><p>Being sixteen isn't so bad when the bartender doesn't care how old you are. She doesn't like beer. It's a talking drink, the kind you have when you're with buddies or coworkers. Not the kind of drink you order when you want to forget and fast. No, then you order something strong. Like whiskey.<p>

Four shots later, her vision is slow and fuzzy. The bar is too loud, too crowded. Buck's place is a hangout for greasers and hoods, and usually is nothing but fist fighting and strangers hooking up in one of the rooms. Before that day those were all rumors to her, since she has never been to Buck's before. When she was thirteen, her brother and Jesse would go often, coming home with bruised knuckles and reeking of alcohol. Kurt told her he would never let her go there. Said a place like that wasn't for good girls like her.

She downs another shot.

She likes the burning sensation, the way it stings as it goes down her throat. Almost like it kills off the bad stuff that lingers in her head.

"You're a friend of Jesse Morelo." The girl next to her says. She has big eyes and the kind of smile that lies slip through without any trouble. "The girl named after the alcohol. Rum, right?"

She was named after a game. Not the alcohol. But at this point she is too drunk to care.

"Yeah. That's me."

Rum takes a sip of a beer someone left unguarded next to her. The taste is a lot softer than what she is use to.

"Don't think I've seen you around here before."

"You haven't."

She tilts her head. Her nails are a pale pink color. "And why's that?"

Rummy shrugs. "He ain't 'round to stop me."

The girl raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment. She probably thinks she has daddy issues, like most kids on the east side do. She must not have heard about her brother. He was a known athlete at Will Rogers, a star football player like their father. But that was a long time ago.

The mood lightens between the girls. After a few more drinks they're laughing like they are old friends and not strangers. Rummy has no control of anything. She was dragged out to the middle of the floor and she can hardly remember who she danced with but that seems irrelevant at the time. She is surprisingly having fun. It's something she hasn't felt in a while.

She doesn't know how much time has passed, but most of the bar is empty now. The girl now has her arm around her waist and is guiding her up the stairs.

The next thing she knows she's sitting on a mattress, trying to keep herself from falling over onto the ground.

"What do I look like? A fuckin' babysitter?" She hears someone say. For some reason she finds it pretty funny.

"You don't have to pay attention to her," She recognizes the voice. "Just let her sleep here tonight. And then tomorrow, I'm all your's baby."

"What's she to you?"

"A friend."

"You don't like friends."

The girl has that smile again.

When Rummy opens her eyes, a boy is standing near her with his arms crossed. She mimics him. He doesn't find it funny.

He goes to the other side of the bed and pulls the blanket back. He slides under it.

"What're you doing?"

"Goin' to sleep, what's it look like I'm doin'." he snaps, but it's not too harsh. He looks a little amused to her, but more annoyed than anything.

"I'm sleepin' here." she slurs.

He ignores her.

She flips over. "I saw 'im for the first time in months today. He's on somethin'..."

Tears start rolling down her cheeks and the next thing she knows she's sobbing like a little kid again. She feels small. Invisible, maybe. She just wants things to be like they were when she was younger, when her father was alive, her mother was happy, and her brother was clean.

"Fuck, just stop cryin'. It ain't gonna change nothin'."

She tries to stop. "I'm sorry...I should...should leave."

She shoves the blanket off her and pushes her self up. She wobbles a little and before she can take a step towards the door, she's pulled back onto the bed.

"Jesus, lay down before you end up killin' yourself...I'll stay on the floor, alright, just stop cryin' and movin' and sleep for Christ sake."

"Will ya just...stay up here with me?" she pleads. She is no longer crying, only hiccuping. She's sick of being alone. "Please?"

He does.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the reviews! They're very appreciated! _

**02**

People make her anxious. Jumpy. She has always been that way, easily embarrassed for no apparent reason. Kurt always joked about the way she blushed and became jittery in crowds, saying she must of had a guilty conscious. He would say by the way she kept looking over her shoulder, one would think she just robbed a liquor store. They both knew she was too much of a good girl to even dream of doing something like that, which most found strange, for being the sister of a Brumley Boy.

The second her eyes open, a little after dawn, her cheeks are burning. Her fingers are resting against his bare skin and her body is positioned too close next to his. A gasp leaves her mouth and she scrams away from him so quickly she nearly falls out of the bed. He stirs a little and she holds her breath, praying that she can sneak out before he wakes.

All the movement makes her feel nauseous. Her one hand grips her stomach.

"Please, no..." is all she can manage.

She ends up with her head shoved into a dirty bucket that was within arms reach of her. She pukes a couple of times and then slides off the bed and sits on the floor. Her head is throbbing.

Minutes pass by before she lifts herself up. She wonders how much she had last night. The thought makes her want to sit back down.

"Never again." she mumbles to herself.

"You'll think different tomorrow."

She jumps at his voice, her heart is beating so violently like it's trying to force it's way out of her chest. She turns to face the him, and sees not only is he barely clothed but he's one of the most dangerous hoods in town. Her face is flustered and she immediately forces her eyes to the ground.

"I, uh," She clears her throat and awkwardly points to the bucket of her vomit. "I'm sorry about that. I'll get you another one, I just didn't want to...you know...on the ground or the bed and it was the closest thing-"

"What you think it's there for?" he cuts off her rant. "Decoration?"

"Oh."

Her palms are sweaty. Her eyes are glued to the ground. She is so embarrassed she thinks her cheeks are going to be stained pink for the rest of her life.

She sees him grab a shirt and pull it over his head. She keeps her gaze anywhere he isn't. She wants to run out the door like a bat out of hell.

He notices her discomfort around him. She knows it, especially when he looks amused when she blushes like a virgin at every step he takes.

He lights a cigarette. She shuffles her feet.

"I should go," Rummy says it too fast. She gestures to the bucket. "Sorry...I'll, um, clean it..."

She goes to reach for it.

"Leave it. Sylvia can get rid of it." He exhales a cloud of smoke. "Maybe she'll think twice 'fore feedin' shots to a damn kid."

She bites her lip. Hard.

"I'm not a kid. I'm sixteen."

He stays silent, like what he did most of the night when she would randomly begin talking about her brother. The only time he would speak to her was when she started crying throughout the night, telling her things that came off harsh but were oddly comforting.

"Sylvia ain't my babysitter, neither." she adds softly, realizing she never asked for her name last night. "I didn't even know her, well I still kind of don't know her but...point is, this ain't her fault, okay? I don't want you to be upset with her over something I did." She finally meets his eyes. "Savvy?"

His eyes are an icy blue. They make her nervous. Hell, everything about Dallas Winston makes her nervous.

"She ain't no angel, you know." he warns her.

Rummy shrugs. "Neither am I."

He seems very skeptical but says nothing. Maybe because she leaves with the bucket before he could, but he doesn't try to stop her

* * *

><p>It is too early for her to head home. She did not want to risk walking in on something again, like she did one time a couple of months ago. She relentlessly tries to erase the image of her mother on her knees for a man that went to the same church as them. He has a pregnant wife. She never went back to church again.<p>

She dumps out the bucket in a nearby dumpster, holding her breath as she does. Afterwards she walks the few blocks to her cousin's house and leaves the bucket in the bush outside.

An older lady answers the door. She is wearing a light blue bathrobe and has curlers still in her hair. Her smile is genuine. She knows what her mother does for a living.

She takes her by her arm and gingerly pulls her inside. "Come in, peach, you look hungry. And lucky for you, I just made breakfast."

Rummy feels welcome there, but at times a little uncomfortable. Their home smells like lemons and baked goods and she is used to the smell of cheap perfume and cigarette smoke. The nice furniture and drawings colored in crayons hanging up on the wall sometimes make her sad. She wishes her brother and her could have had something like that. Maybe then things would have turned out differently.

When Aunt Elma sets down a plate of pancakes in front of her, she scarfs them down without a second thought. Usually she would feel rude, but right now all she feels is hungover.

"Kathy will be up soon. She was out for most of the night with some boy named Keith Matthews," Elma takes a sip of her coffee, a trace of a smile on her face afterwards. "She seems happy with him. Though I wish I had time to meet the boy, it feels like the hospital can't work a damn typewriter without me there."

Rummy laughs a little. She feels like she owes her aunt a lot more than she could ever give her. Elma tried to save Kurt, always paying for bail when he would get himself hauled down to the station and tried to get him help for his drug problem. Nothing ever sticked. Kurt is stubborn, the drugs make him worse. No, they make him someone else. Someone terrible.

Elma sighs. "Any who, I can't complain. Work is work and you can't pay the bills without some sweat. Now, peach, I have to leave soon. Will you make sure Kathy eats something? You girls these days need to eat. Look like nothing but skin and bone!"

"I'll make sure," Rummy tells her.

Elma hops into the shower and Rummy washes the bucket outside with their hose and dumps the dirty water behind the fence. She hides it back in the bush and by time she gets back inside, Kathy is at their table eating an apple.

Kathy looks surprised, her emerald eyes wide. She grins. "I thought I heard Ma talkin' to someone. Did you sleep here last night?"

"No, I dropped by a little while ago." Rum takes a seat next to her. "Your mom told me you went out with Two-Bit again. How was it?"

"Absolutely wonderful." she beams, adding, "He is so funny and sweet yet sexy at the same time. We went to the Dingo and then got burgers with some of his friends, and _after_, well..." she trails off, grinning ear to ear. Her cheeks are a little rosy and she winks at her cousin.

Rummy understands it, and some reason her cheeks blush too. "Oh, golly, uh...how was it?"

"Perfect." Kathy sets her apple down and spaces out at the table. "I think I love him, Rum. We've only been goin' steady for a couple months and I did wanna wait until marriage but I love him. I really, really love him."

"That's great, Kath, I'm happy for you." She replies, hoping that one day she meets someone who makes her happy too. Though she feels no rush, for a relationship or sex.

"Me too." Kathy throws what's left of her apple in the trash. "Why don't we get out of here? Go shoppin' or somethin'."

Rum shrugs. "Alright."

* * *

><p>They decide to shop around the Ribbon. Kathy bought dresses and new shades of lipstick while Rummy more so tried on a couple dresses to make her cousin happy but not to buy them. She has enough clothes at home, or well, not enough money in her pocket. Either way, she's happy just to be doing something.<p>

"How's this look?" Kathy puckers her orangish pink lips. She makes a face. "Too bright? Not Twiggy enough?"

"I like it."

Kathy looks at the mirror again. "I don't know. Do you think Two-Bit will like it?"

Rummy nods. "Definitely."

The bell above the store door rings. Two girls come walking in, talking a little too loud. Rummy thinks she recognizes one of them. And when the one girl meets her gaze, she realizes she does.

Sylvia is slim with full lips and pin straight hair. Pretty is too girly of a word to describe her. She looks tough yet gentle. Smart and deceitful. When she notices Rummy, she starts heading towards her and the other girl follows.

"I though you'd still be sleepin' your night off," Sylvia greets with a smirk.

Kathy shoots Rummy a strange look but asks nothing of what she just heard. Yet.

Rum awkwardly laughs. "Yeah, well, guess I didn't really like the company."

"I'll let him know you think so," She jokes. Or least Rum hopes. She gestures to the girl next to her. "This is Sandy. We're gonna be goin' to the Dingo later. You should come with, Rum. Meet some of our friends."

The girl, Sandy, is gorgeous. She resembles what Rummy always thought a stereotypical angel would look like. Pale blonde hair, creamy skin, gentle blue eyes, an innocent smile. All she's missing is the halo.

Sandy adds, "It'll be a lot of fun! Kathy, you're still coming too, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it." She jokes.

"Give it some thought." Sylvia says, smiling faintly.

Rum nods. "See ya."

"It was nice meeting you," The girl, Sandy, gives a small wave before following Sylvia.

The instant the girls get far enough away Kathy quirks a brow and repeats, "_I thought_ _you'd be sleepin' your night off_?"

Rummy bites her a lip a little. She tries flashing a smile but Kathy isn't buying it.

"Well?" Kathy presses. "Are you going to tell me how you possibly know Sylvia Carter or are you going to continue leaving me in the dark?"

Rum rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. She then tells her about her stopping by Buck's place and having a few drinks, meeting Sylvia and then Sylvia giving her a place to sleep. She leaves out the part about Jesse taking her to visit Kurt. She doesn't want to talk about that.

"Huh." Kathy's nose wrinkled. "I thought you didn't drink."

"I don't."

"And what's with the comments 'bout having bad company?" Her eyes get huge and she whispers, "Oh my gosh, Rummy did you sleep with a boy last night?"

"What? No!" Rum explains, "Sylvia let me sleep at a friend's room, that's all."

"What friend, Rummy?" she asks slowly and carefully.

Rum thinks about lying to her, but she doesn't like lying and especially not to her own family. She winces a little. "Dallas Winston."

"Dallas Winston?" Kathy whispers harshly. "Shit, Rum are you insane? The guy is a lunatic! Not to mention Sylvia's boyfriend! Do you even know how much trouble you'd be in if Sylvia had the tiniest suspicion that you two did somethin' together? Huh?"

"I was drunk, Kath. And she brought me there, I didn't ask for her to help me to her boyfriend's bedroom."

Her lips are a line. "I don't trust that girl. Watch your back around her. Promise?"

"Promise."

"Good. And next time you plan on gettin' boozed up at least invite your good ol' cousin. I don't need you bein' wasted around a bunch of creeps, got it?"

Rummy nods.

"Okay." She grins, holding up a lilac colored blouse and a deep red dress. "Now which one do you think Two-Bit would like to rip off me better?"

* * *

><p>The house is quiet and dark, and like usual she finds her mother passed out on their sofa in nothing but a lace night gown and an empty bottle of wine clutched in her arms. Rummy takes the bottle away and throws it in the trash. She then throws a quilt over her mother and then heads to her room with the bucket in her hand. After Kathy and her we're done shopping they hung around her house for a while, watching reruns on the television. As she went to leave she took the bucket. She considers giving it to Sylvia to bring back to Dallas, since the last thing Rummy wants is another embarrassing encounter with him.<p>

"Rummy?" Her mother calls out. "That you, baby?"

She walks out to the living room. "Yeah. I just got home."

"Get me my pills from the cabinet will ya? We don't want me to forget to 'em, now do we."

Rum grabs the pills out from the kitchen. They're small and white. She tells Rum they're so she doesn't end up with another brother or sister. She feels sick again, when she hands them to her.

Her mother takes two, she says to make sure the job gets done. She chases them with a glass of water and lies back down.

Rummy grabs her jacket and decides she rather leave for the Dingo than stick around.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry about the wait! This chapter was kind of difficult. Thank you so much for the reviews! _

**03**

She walks to the Dingo alone. Jesse will chew her a new one if he finds out, but she needs to clear her head anyways. The night, ironically, makes her feel better, like she can finally breathe for once. She listens to the cars rushing pass, the dogs howling in the distance, admires all the bright lights dotting the sky around her. Something about it makes her relax.

At the gate, Rummy digs a quarter out of her pocket and enters the Dingo. She heads towards the seats, not knowing if they were there or in one of the many cars, so she decides to take a seat regardless. Popcorn is beneath her feet and in the air. She hears the person behind her sipping on their Pepsi better than she can hear the old black and white movie on the big screen. The crowd of people is not as large as it usually gets there, but it's still enough to make her somewhat uncomfortable. She bites her lip and searches for a better seat, preferably far from everyone else.

As she goes to leave, she accidentally collides into someone, forcing her to stumble back and for them to squeal.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you!" Rummy apologizes. Her eyes widen at what she has done.

The girl angrily drops her now empty drink to the ground and desperately wipes at her dress. She glares at Rummy, snapping, "How about you learn how to walk, grease! You too poor to afford glasses?"

She feels herself become flustered. Her mouth opens but no words come out.

"You should be thankin' her. That dress looks like somethin' that would come out of my dog's ass. Now keep on walkin' before I really give you somethin' to cry to daddy about."

The girl has a wave of red creeping up her neck. Her lips slam shut and she hurriedly leaves without speaking another word.

Rum blinks in surprise. The girl who came to her aid faintly smirks, seeming pleased with herself.

"Thanks for that..." Rummy says, feeling stupid for not standing up for herself.

The girl shrugs. "Damn Socs think they own the place. She should be grateful I didn't give her a nice shiner to go with that zit on her chin." She pauses, narrowing her eyes at her. "I'm Evie, by the way."

"Rummy."

"You the girl Sylvia's been talkin' 'bout?" She adds, "Kathy Moran's cousin? Was suppose to meet them here?"

Rum nods. "They ain't showing up?"

"They bailed. Said they rather go straight to Buck's for drinks. Me and Steve are headin' over there now. You want a ride?"

"Sure."

She laughs to herself. "We should hurry then, before Steve thinks I ditched him and leaves."

Steve parks on the far side of the bar. As Evie goes to leave, he pulls her back to him, whispering something in her ear. She smiles wickedly, mumbles something back, and tells Rum to let the the others know that they'd be in soon. Before she can respond, they already begin shoving their tongues down each other's throats. Rum cringes, tripping over herself as she exits the car.

The bar is filled to the brim with strangers of all ages. Rummy shoves her way through them. She finds it hard to swallow.

"Well, take a look at what the cat dragged in!" A boy with long, rusty sideburns announces. His arm is draped around Kathy, who grins widely at her.

"Rum!" Kathy pats the spot next to her on the booth. "Sit down, already, will ya?"

She does. Her eyes focus on the dancing bodies and those sitting alone on the stools and the couples who have their hands all over each other. Elvis is playing, singing something about a girl.

"Speakin' of that damn cat, where is Steve? He get lost in the parking lot?"

"Him and Evie said they'll be in soon," Rum answers, awkwardly coughing a bit.

Two-Bit wiggles his brows at Kathy, saying, "Maybe we should go look for 'em."

She rolls her eyes, though she's smiling too.

They change the subject and Rum thinks about her mother as she watches the girls in too short of skirts wearing thick makeup. They cling to random boys, letting them lead them upstairs.

"You alright, Rummy? You look sick or somethin'."

Two-Bit slides a beer to her, winking. "Here, this'll make you feel like a million bucks."

Kathy slaps him playfully on the arm. "Now that's some false advertisement, buddy."

"You seen Sylvia around?" Rum asks. She wants to fit in yet leave at the same time. She's not a people person.

Two-Bit nods towards them, across the bar. "We ain't scarring you off, are we?"

"We?" Kathy repeats.

"No. I'll be back." She takes a quick sip of the beer before crossing the floor.

The girl Sylvia was with at the Ribbon, Sandy, sees Rummy first and waves her over.

"We didn't think you were going to show up," she greets, smiling largely. "How you liking it so far?"

Rum shrugs. "It ain't so bad."

Sylvia takes a long drag from her cigarette, her long legs crossed over each other. She is wearing a very tiny skirt and a low cut blouse. Her lips form a sharp smile. "It'll be better if you loosen up. Sandy, wanna get us a round of somethin' strong?"

Sandy sweetly smiles and shrugs. "Sure thing."

Sylvia blows out a cloud of smoke and rubs out her cigarette on the table.

"Sandy don't drink. Says it's not good for you or some shit." Her eyes slowly wander over Rummy. She slides off the table and loops her arm through her's. "Come on. Let's find you somethin' that don't make you look like you just got back from church."

She blushes and looks down at her dress. "It ain't bad."

"It ain't good, neither." Sylvia retorts. "Lucky for you, I got just the thing that'll fix that."

* * *

><p>"No way am I going back downstairs in this."<p>

"You go downstairs in that or you go downstairs in nothin'." She lifts a brow, daring Rummy to argue.

Rummy tries pulling the dress down. It's not as short as Sylvia's or most of the girls downstairs, but it's still pretty short, stopping about six inches above her knees.

She bites her lip. "I look..."

"Like the kind of girl a man would lose sleep over."

Rummy says nothing. She stares at herself in the dirty bathroom mirror. Sylvia took her other dress back to Dallas's room. There's no way she's going back there to get it.

"Why don't we put it to the test?" She smirks. "See what the boys have to say."

She feels her cheeks warming up in embarrassment. Maybe being home with her mother was the better choice.

Sylvia tilts her head, an amused look on her face. "You ain't ever been to bed with a boy before, have you?"

Rum shakes her head. Hell, she's barely kissed a boy before, unless you count the peck Tommy O'Doyle gave her after the school dance in eight grade. That wasn't really real a kiss, since he was dared to kiss her. Boys were scared of her brother. No one wanted to mess with a Brumley Boy's sister.

"It's simple," Sylvia says, leaning against the wall. "All you oughta do is show 'em your interested by stroking his leg or his arm. Giggle. Flirt. Get 'im to kiss you and all you have to do is ask to go somewhere more private. If he's smart, he'll take the hint and you don't got to worry 'bout the rest. He'll know what to do."

Rummy isn't interested in any of that. Least not tonight. She nods anyway.

Sylvia takes her arm again, the corner of her red lips rising. "Let's show 'em what they're in for."

"Where you two disappear to?" Sandy asks softly. A boy has his arm around her waist and she is leaning against him. She grins. "The boys here were about to take your drinks."

"They wouldn't if they knew what was best for 'em." Sylvia says, handing a drink to Rummy.

Evie and Steve are also at the booth, a few empty beers in front of them. Steve is glaring at Sylvia. Either she doesn't notice or doesn't care.

"Oh, this is our new friend," Sandy tells what seems to be her boyfriend. "Rum."

He flashes a big smile. He sure is handsome, with movie star looks. Some could even call him beautiful.

"Sodapop Curtis." He pretends to bow.

And Rum thought her name was different. She smiles back at him.

Sandy kisses his cheek. "You're something else."

"Rum...like the liquor?" Steve asks, making a face.

"Actually the card game." She rephrases, "Rummy."

"Rummy Royal."

The voice made her jump. It sounds too familiar. Goosebumps race up her arms.

"Dally, baby," Sylvia wraps her arms around his lower waist. "You been gone a while."

When Rummy turns back, he is staring at her. More at what's she wearing. His eyes wander from her heels to her eyes, a strange look on his face. She averts her eyes to the floor, her hands tugging at the ends of the dress again.

His face turns blank. He looks back at Sylvia, shrugging. "Had things to do."

"I'm sure," She rubs her hand suggestively over his chest. She grabs his hand, her long lashes blinking slowly, whispering, "Dance with me."

She tries to lead him to the floor. Says he don't dance. His eyes stay on Rum a little too long.

* * *

><p>She sits at the bar by herself. Soda and Sandy are dancing, Steve and Evie are fumbling each other at the booth, and Kathy and Two-Bit left the bar about a half hour ago. Dallas and Sylvia go to disappear upstairs. Something makes Rummy feel uneasy, watching her guide him towards the stairs, that knowing look on her face.<p>

But they don't make it. As Sylvia reaches the first step and Rummy downs another shot of vodka, a piercing sound goes off. Instantly people are scrambling out the door, pushing and screaming.

Her heart is beating too hard when she sees the gun in the hand of a strange man. But what really kills her is where the end of the pistol is.

"Do it," he slurs. "Pull the fuckin' trigger!"

Jesse has his knife hanging loosely in his hand. He drops it and moves closer, the tip of the gun now touching his forehead.

"You're a goddamn fool." The man says lowly.

She sees his finger twitch on the trigger. She sees the looks in his eyes. He's going to shoot.

She jumps off the stool, running towards the two of them. Too many thoughts are racing through her mind. They all cancel each other out. She has no plan, but there is no way she will let Jesse get himself killed. Not if she can stop it.

Before she can get close, a pair of arms circle around her torso, pulling her back.

"Let me go!" She claws at their arm. She can hear her heart beating uncontrollably in her ears. "He's gonna kill him! Dammit, let go of me!"

"He'll kill you then he'll kill him," they calmly whisper into her ear. "I'll handle it, but not if you don't stay here. Got it?"

She nods. Tears are building in her eyes. She can feel herself shaking. She can't stop.

"Don't move."

Dallas releases her and cautiously walks towards the two.

"Should've never crossed me, boy." The man says. "Maybe you would of lived to see another day."

Jesse sneers. He is angry, too. Furious and so damn careless. "You waitin' 'til I die of old age?"

"I'll put a bullet through your skull when I damn well please!"

Dallas is too close to them. The man notices. Rummy bites her lip. She can taste the metallic.

"What the hell you think you doin'? Tryin' to play hero?"

"Naw," He shrugs, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. He twirls it around his fingers. "Ain't too good at that."

"Get out of here, Winston." Jesse growls. The look in his eyes scare her. They are thirsty for death. A sad, burning hopelessness. "This is between me and this old bastard."

"You heard the boy," The man adds, a smile showing his missing teeth. "Scram."

Blankness briskly dances across his face. His hand reaches behind his shirt. He pulls out a heater and has it pressed against the man's temple so quick, almost like it was routine.

He tilts his head. "What was that?"

The man slowly narrows his eyes at the gun. His lips form a straight line. His hand holding the gun stays steady at Jesse.

"Drop the heater."

The man stays still. Dallas cocks the gun.

"Two seconds."

"Alright." The man keeps his eyes on Dallas. His face twists into a dim anger. "I'm gonna drop it."

He does. Dallas kicks it, it slides across the floor and into the bar. Rummy watches it spin to a stop.

"If I see you again, I'll put two through your fuckin' head." Dallas warns. She knows when Dallas Winston says something, he means it.

The man responds to his threat with a glare. Dallas lowers his heater, eyes saying it all.

The man takes the hint, grabbing his cowboy hat off of the floor and briefly halting by Jesse.

"You jus' wait, boy." His boots clicking as he walks is all Rummy can hear. "Jus' wait."

When he is gone, the silence is thick. Jesse goes to the bar. He grabs a bottle of whiskey. The bartender is too much in shock to tell him off.

"Well that was...entertaining."

Sylvia looks a little pale. She keeps a strong front on. Rummy ignores her.

"Who the hell was that, Jesse?" She sounds more afraid than anything. Not mad. She doesn't think she could ever be angry with Jesse. She loves him too much for that.

He takes a long swing of the bottle. "An ol' buddy of mine, Rum."

She is speechless. He wanted a bullet in his head. She wants to cry.

Sylvia walks to the pay phone and starts dialing a number.

Rummy tries to swallow the lump in her throat. She manages, "I'm taking you home."

Jesse chuckles. "You can't drive for shit."

"And you're drunk." Rum squeezes her eyes. "Now give me your keys before I-"

"'Fore ya what?" When she opens her eyes he's in front of her, in her face. "Tell you're brother on me? And maybe he'll do somethin' if the druggie ain't too high on-"

Dallas swigs at him. Due to the alcohol, the hit makes him fall to the ground.

"Give me you're fuckin' keys, Morelo."

Oddly enough, he does.

* * *

><p>Rummy helps Jesse out of his car. He lives at some run down apartment building by himself. She walks him to his door.<p>

He fumbles with the lock. Rum has to open it.

He won't face her.

"...Rummy."

She sees the redness where Dallas hit him even in the faint moonlight. She sees the way he struggles with his words, his mind too screwy from the alcohol.

She isn't mad. Just upset.

She leaves without saying goodbye.

Dallas decides to take the car. Says Jesse can walk back to Buck's and get it tomorrow. Rummy asks him to take her to Kathy's. She wants some rest without being forced to hear her mother and some stranger in the other room.

"Thank you...for what you did." Rummy mumbles, her hands are shaking. She thinks she is going crazy.

She notices him shrug. "Always wanted to give Morelo a shiner."

Rum finds her self laughing a little. Though it was more because of nerves than anything. The few shots she took seem to have worn off by now.

He drives fast. Recklessly. She wonders if it is because she is with him, like he can't wait to get away from her.

"You with Morelo?"

"Huh?"

He pauses shortly, rephrasing, "Are you and dipshit goin' steady?"

"Oh." Her cheeks become rosy. The thought doesn't seem right. "No. He's more...of a brother."

"Right." He mumbles, sounding very skeptical.

She doesn't comment on that.

"What about you and Sylvia?" She already knew they were. She was only making conversation. "You both have been together for a while now, yeah?"

He laughs, low and humorless. "If that's what you wanna call it."

"What do you mean?"

By now, he parks on the street in front of Kathy's.

His eyes narrow at her. No, at her lips.

When his hand reaches behind her neck and pulls her face closer to him, she is frozen with shock.

His thumb grazes her bottom lip. His icy eyes seem amused at how he makes her react.

"You bit your lip too hard." He explains, smirking a bit. His hand leaves her neck.

Her eyes won't meet his. She licks her lips. She could taste the dry blood.

When she gets out of the passenger door, she catches him staring at her legs again.

"That Sylvia's?"

She nods.

"I like it better on you."


End file.
